Not So Different After All
by Vex Vaudlain
Summary: The first time he'd killed, he'd been nine and in his freshman year at senior high. It'd been an accident, and he still can't really remember what'd happened. Something about velocity, impact, and the mathematics of aerodynamics... The Eppes Brothers have a dark side, and they're very good at hiding it. WARNING: Incest, Don/Charlie
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** People look at Don and Charlie Eppes, and see only what they want to see. If they ever looked deeper, though... they might not like what they find.  
 **Disclaimer:** As much as I wish I owned them, all these lovely characters are part of Numb3rs, and are therefore owned by CBS. Thankfully, that doesn't mean that I can't submit them to the tortures of my own twisted fantasies...  
 **WARNING:** This story is a Don/Charlie pairing, and is therefore Slash, Incest and Eppescest.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **I AM CHARLIE EPPES**

The first time he'd killed, he'd been nine and in his freshman year at senior high. It'd been an accident, and he still can't really remember what'd happened. Something about velocity, impact, and the mathematics of aerodynamics... He'd always known that he was different – genius they called him – but when he had looked at that dead chick, feeling only disappointment that his hypothesis had been incorrect, it'd been the first time he'd wondered if _different_ was _wrong_.

He hadn't thought about that chick again until five years later. He and his brother were graduating – and everyone was so proud. His parents were so obsessed with taking pictures of their young genius; they hadn't noticed when their eldest son had slipped away. But he had. Charlie loved his brother. Even though they were never that close, Donnie had always been there when he really needed him. He protected against bullies, and held him through the nightmares. And hugs... hugs were precious – precious because they came from his brother, and they came very, very rarely. Yes, he loved his older brother very much, and he knew him very well... so when he saw Donnie slip away, Charlie knew that his older sibling was unhappy at being left out again.

It wasn't difficult to distract his parents. Soon enough they were in deep conversation with a college professor who wanted to 'recruit' him for their program, and he was out hunting Don down. Today was a hug day. His brother, Charlie found out, had the same thought. Only, Don wasn't hugging him today. Instead he was hugging a strange girl, hidden in a dark corner far away from the crowd. He'd seen her before... She was a cruel girl, often making fun of him and his math, looking down on everyone around her... and now she was stealing his hug! But it wasn't just the hug. He could _hear_ them moaning as he crept closer, watching with wide eyes when he realised just what Donnie was doing with the girl...

Two days later, as he watched the blond corpse sink into the depths, Charlie realized something interesting. The numbers were quiet. Not silent, never silent, but instead of being a near blinding chorus in his mind, they had become a pleasurable, comfortable _hum_... but he also realised something else. She was never going to touch Don again, because Don was _his Don_ , and maybe, just maybe, he loved Donnie a little more than he technically should.

When Donnie had left, he'd thought it might just be a good thing, even if he _almost_ hated him for it.

The next few years, Charlie threw himself into his work. He threw himself into several other things as well, but they always had dark hair and dark eyes and he never knew their names. He didn't want to know their names. But it wasn't until the trip to give a lecture on his Eppes Convergence in New York when one of his faceless, nameless _Don's_ thought he could break the rules. He heard something on the news when they got back two days later, but he already _knew_ the cops weren't going to find anything. Just like he _knew_ that he _liked_ carving the bastard up.

He'd had to face the truth after that. He thought he cared about them. About dad and Amita and Larry... and mom. But when mom was dying, and his dad yelled at him almost every day to go and say his goodbyes... he still couldn't leave the garage. They would all believe that he'd lost himself in the unsolvable P vs. NP because he couldn't deal with his mother's death. It was a lie he let them believe. He didn't work at the millennium problem because he wanted to ignore his mother's illness, but because he just couldn't understand why the thought of it didn't frighten him, or make him sad. He knew it should...

The truth was, he worked on P vs. NP because maybe, just maybe, solving someone else's unsolvable problem would help him solve his own.

Heartless. That's the word he'd ascribed himself during those months. _Emotionless_. His father had certainly told him that more than enough times – and Charlie almost believed it, too. Until Donnie came back. So different... and so the same. The same dark hair and dark eyes, the same voice, same rough hands and powerful body... and when those hands jerked him away from his blackboards, shaking him in anger, Charlie knew it was time to leave the garage. He wasn't heartless or emotionless. He'd found the solution to his problem, the other side of the emotional equation. He wasn't too surprised by it either.

The answer could only ever have been _Don_.

Very slowly, their lives began to settle into a pattern. Don was still Don, and Charlie still turned to faceless shadows. Sometimes he even thought it was funny, how no one could see him for what he was. They all thought he was sweet and funny and so intelligent, if a little socially awkward. Professor Charlie Eppes, who can't see the way Amita looks at him, who's probably still a virgin, and who could never hurt a fly. _If only they knew_...

Then, one day, everything changes and suddenly Charlie is involved with the FBI, helping them on their cases. No, not helping them... helping _Don_. He'd walked into the building, expecting to feel a certain... fear. There were, after all, still cold cases in this very building that related to things he'd done. But when he stepped off the elevator, there was nothing but excitement to see and help his brother. And did they ever work well together, just like Charlie had always known they would.

He allowed himself to get a little... closer, every now and then. Like after the shooting. He'd practically folded himself into Donnie then. It wasn't so much because of the shooting itself, but when Don had rushed forward and held him, he took advantage. Life went on, but sometimes Charlie could _almost believe_ that Donnie felt something for him, too. A look that lingered, a touch or a squeeze that lasted just a second longer than it should between siblings...

And then came Kim Hall.

When he'd found the box and the ring inside it, Charlie had stared at it for a good, long while. Someone had come _very_ close to stealing _his Don_ away... Three days later, Charlie showed up at Don's door with the box. He'd settled in on the couch with him, a happy little smile on his face. Don had chosen to stay here, with him, even if there had been a woman waiting for him. And Charlie _knew_ that Don would always be his.

Thirty eight hours later, Don and his team were informed that Kim Hall had mysteriously disappeared. His brother had nearly killed himself in an attempt to find her – but Charlie knew he never would. She would be just another cold case... Instead, when Don finally broke two months later, it was Charlie that sat with him in the dark of the apartment. Charlie who made sure that Donnie didn't drink too much, that he ate and took his showers while they waited for him to be approved for active duty again. It was Charlie who comforted him, running his fingers through his brother's soft hair as Don lay on his lap while they watched Gulliver's Travels together.

And he _knew_ that, if anyone was _ever_ going to catch him...

...it was going to be his Don.

 **TO BE CONTINUED...  
**

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 **And so it begins. The next chapter will give you a little bit more insight into the life of Don Eppes... Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** People look at Don and Charlie Eppes, and see only what they want to see. If they ever looked deeper, though... they might not like what they find.  
 **Disclaimer:** As much as I wish I owned them, all these lovely characters are part of Numb3rs, and are therefore owned by CBS. Thankfully, that doesn't mean that I can't submit them to the tortures of my own twisted fantasies...  
 **WARNING:** This story is a Don/Charlie pairing, and is therefore Slash, Incest and Eppescest.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

 **I AM DON EPPES**

He thought about it sometimes… about the harsh truths that was hidden in the darkest recesses of his mind. Only ever when he was alone, in the quiet dark of his apartment, did he dig up his secrets, his own… _darkness_. It wouldn't do for anyone to know… Not his teammates and the bureau. Not dad. _Certainly not Charlie_ …

His dad had told him that his first love had been that little gun, not baseball as he'd tried to insist. Dad told him that they'd chosen to distract him… but that was a lie, and Don knew it. He'd let them distract him because the way that gun had felt in his hand, toy or not… it had felt perfect. Plastic darts couldn't do much harm, but even he'd known back then that continuously pointing the gun at living things didn't bode well. It'd been the first time he'd _known_ he was _different_.

So he'd tried to give it up. Tried to find a different path… but somehow he'd always known that, no matter what choice he made, he was going to end up with a gun in his hands. He'd only hoped that by joining the bureau, he could control himself.

A lie, a beautiful lie…

First, they'd called him a good shot. Wasn't too long before they started to whisper the words 'trigger happy'. So he'd taken the job in Albuquerque. Fugitive Recovery. They never did ask too many questions when a marked turned up dead. He relished the hunt, and relished the kill. Sometimes, waiting for the target to become threat enough to justify firing his gun was almost… torturous. Those were the rules, though, the only controls he had. But when he killed a mark on a hunt, alone with no witnesses, and made his mark disappear… _that_ had been when Don had known there was no fixing _his_ kind of different.

His… lethal tendencies, however, were only half the story. Half the lie. There was another that was much harder to acknowledge.

Don should have known, the moment his mother had told him he'd be getting a baby brother, he should have known. Being five years old was no excuse. Every chance he had, little Don had whispered to his little brother in his mother's tummy. Promised him love, promised him protection. He'd been there, at Charlie's birth – the second to hold him, before even his father had the chance. For the most part, Don had kept his whispered promises. He'd watched over Charlie's crib, he'd fed him, learned to change his diapers… his parents caught him one night, after he'd gotten up to soothe Charlie's cries. He even held Charlie at night, when nightmares and numbers and lightning storms were too much for him to bear. Was it such a surprise, then, that they'd forged a… connection?

So it went, through the years. The closest of brothers, an unbreakable bond. It might have continued that way, until _that day._ A man had come to the park with candy and promises. He'd left Charlie for only a moment, but he'd _felt_ the wrong even before he'd heard Charlie's surprised yelp. Before Don had even known what was wrong, he was on top of the man who was trying to steal his brother away. He'd fought like no ten year old was supposed to fight, clawing and scratching and biting until the man had screamed in terror. He'd come to two realizations that day.

He _enjoyed_ hurting that man, more than anyone ever should. He'd wanted to _kill_ him… would have killed him, if their parents hadn't come to see what was happening. That was the first. The second…

He loved Charlie. _Much_ more than he was supposed to… and he could never, _ever_ let anyone know just how much.

They'd started to grow distant, Don had made sure of that. Even if he still kept watch from the shadows, he stayed away. It frayed on his nerves and it scratched at his heart, but it was for their own good. Even the girls… none of them ever looked like Charlie. They never thought like him or spoke like him. For a time, that had been enough. To be away from Charlie, to have all these nameless girls who were just so willing to throw themselves at a baseball jock…

He should have known that he wouldn't be able to outrun it forever, though. Not his bloodlust, not Charlie. When he'd hit that baseball with the crack of a gun… Don had _known_ baseball would never be enough. No matter what he told the others about the major leagues – it had only ever been a believable excuse. And then there had been the fumble, an accident, a moment of weakness… but when he'd snuck out of the room of a brown eyed, curly haired freshman, Don had _known_ it was time to break contact, while a clean break was still possible.

And so there was the academy. There was fugitive recovery. There was Kim Hall. He tried so hard with Kim. Maybe he did end up loving her, for a while at least. But in those rare moments he was honest with himself, Don had to admit that half the time, it wasn't Kim Hall beneath him. Maybe she'd known it too. Maybe that was why she hadn't put up much of a fight when he'd decided to leave for home and break off their engagement. His mother's illness was just… _a convenient excuse_.

Touching Charlie again, down in the garage, had nearly been his downfall. So Don had turned to anger instead. Anger was safe. Anger ensured a certain amount of distance… for all the good it did. It wasn't long, barely over a year, before anger had to make room for cooperation. They worked together… they worked together so well, it was like they'd always been meant to work that way. Don and Charlie, the wonder brothers, turning his team into the star case closers in the bureau. Pretty soon… there was no more room for anger. Just control. _Iron_ control… but even that slipped, now and then. Like when he'd held Charlie after the shooting. When he couldn't help looking at him with just a little more love than he should, or letting a touch linger just a little longer than a brother should.

Sometimes he could even believe that Charlie felt the same way. The way Charlie looked at him, touched him, teased him…

Then Kim Hall disappeared.

He'd torn himself up looking for her. He HAD to make the effort, even if only to prove to himself that she really had meant something, once upon a time. But in the end, Don gave up. They thought he had a mental breakdown. That he couldn't handle the disappearance of the woman he'd loved, once. So they'd sent him home and told him they would approve him for duty again pending a psychiatric evaluation. For his own health, of course.

Perhaps that was his darkest secret of all.

Don hadn't stopped looking because he couldn't find Kim Hall. He'd stopped looking… because he had figured out who killed her. _That_ had broken him… because it'd been Charlie. Charlie, his dear Charlie, who carded fingers through his hair as he lay on his brother's lap, Gulliver's Travels playing on the television. They shared more than just blood… They shared _darkness_. They shared _love_. They shared _murder_.

And Don knew that, one day…

…they were going to catch each other.

 **TO BE CONTINUED...?**

* * *

 **Here it is, the second instalment from Don's point of view! I wrote this at 1am, so I apologize for any… roughness. Please let me know what you think but, more importantly, let me know if you want me to expand this story with them finally colliding!**


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